


Dissociate with Me

by CabbageOriley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Nogitsune Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:29:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabbageOriley/pseuds/CabbageOriley
Summary: So, Stiles became devoted to Derek.  Devoted to Derek’s happiness.  Devoted to Derek’s smile.  Devoted to the stolen kisses when no one was looking.  Devoted to the touches and caresses.  Devoted to the eventual loss of virginity.  Devoted to Derek with his entire body, mind, soul, and future.That is, until he walked into the loft and saw his whole life pressed into the sofa with another woman.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 161





	Dissociate with Me

Devoted might not be a strong enough word to describe Stiles’ relationship to Derek. After the Nogitsune debacle, Derek was the one who was there for him. The one who made falling asleep okay because he was there to protect him from the dreams. With Derek, he was safe. He was whole again.

So, Stiles became devoted to Derek. Devoted to Derek’s happiness. Devoted to Derek’s smile. Devoted to the stolen kisses when no one was looking. Devoted to the touches and caresses. Devoted to the eventual loss of virginity. Devoted to Derek with his entire body, mind, soul, and future.

That is, until he walked into the loft and saw his whole life pressed into the sofa with another woman.

\---

With his attention clearly elsewhere, Derek doesn’t immediately notice Stiles standing in the foyer of the loft. He hears the thunk of something hitting the ground and clattering down the steps. He pulls his head away from the woman and freezes when he sees Stiles. Stiles… wide eyed and frozen at the top of the stairs that lead into the living room.

Derek shoves the woman off of him, and she hits her head on the low coffee table. The blood flows freely and seeps into the plush carpet Stiles had picked out when Derek asked him to move in. But, as she stands, Derek can see the wound has already started to heal.

“Get out!” he barks.

She glares at him with flashed alpha eyes, but turns, bends and grabs her purse near the stairs, and heads toward the door. So does Stiles.

Derek runs to him and grabs his arm. “Not you.” He turns the boy so he can look him in the eyes. “It’s not what it looks like.”

His eyes are so glazed that they look almost unseeing. They slowly begin to shift back and forth as if trying to process what he has seen.

“Stiles?”

His eyes clear as he swallows and finally looks at Derek’s face. “I’m so sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“It’s not what it looks like. I promise.” Derek needs Stiles to know the truth of what happened.

Stiles smiles and shakes his head. “What am I even doing here? I need to go.” He turns and pads to the door.

Derek follows after him. “No, Stiles, please.”

“Stiles?” the young boy asks. “Who’s Stiles?”

“Stiles, stop it.” Derek moves around him to block the door. “I know you’re mad at me, but at least let me explain. You need to know that it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Mad? Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?” Stiles shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. “If anyone should be mad it’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m the one that interrupted you and your girlfriend.”

“Stiles,” Derek is desperate. “You have to listen to me!”

“Stop.” Stiles swallows and shifts his eyes around the room. “Stop calling me Stiles. How… Why are you…”

Derek sighs. “What am I supposed to call you, then?”

“My name, duh.”

“Mieczyslaw, please.”

Stiles scrunches up his face before laughing. “What kind of word vomit was that? You don’t even know my name.”

“Don’t laugh at me. You tell me how to say your name, then.” Derek just wants this to stop so he can tell his boyfriend what really happened.

“I…” Stiles’ voice cuts out without ever really starting. His eyes do the weird shifting thing as if he is searching for something. He looks at Derek. “I don’t know.”

Derek has had enough and explodes. “What do you mean you don’t know?! Stiles, just stop. I know you’re mad at me, but you don’t need to be if you would just let me explain.” Derek tries to calm his voice down because now Stiles looks scared. That’s not what he wanted. “Stiles.”

“Stop calling me that!” Stiles ignores the pained look Derek gives him and starts patting his sides and pockets. He pulls out his wallet with a bit of triumph and opens it. He looks at the driver’s license.

“Stiles, let me explain. I was at the grocery store. There was another alpha, and we had a few unkind words about the territory. She followed me. She was crazy, Stiles. She snuck up on me at the door and barged her way inside.”

“This isn’t my license.”

“She basically attacked me. She was trying to get me to do things with her, but I refused. I swear I refused.”

“This isn’t my wallet.”

“What do you mean, this isn’t your wallet? Listen to me, I was at the grocery store…”

Stiles is lost in thought. “Grocery store.”

“Yes. I was at the grocery store, babe.” Derek puts his hands on Stiles’ shoulders.

Stiles looks at him. “Grocery. Store.” Stiles smiles. “Oh wow! That’s right. I just came in and saw all that and… I don’t know what happened. I forgot.” Stiles shakes his head. “I was at the grocery store. This guy,” he holds up the wallet, “was in front of me and he left his wallet at the checkout counter. I…” he looks at the license again as if to confirm his thoughts. “I saw the address and being the upstanding citizen that I am brought it back.”

Derek is confused to say the least… worry is definitely creeping in.

“Here, big guy.” Stiles holds out the wallet to him. “Make sure he gets it.”

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

“I know, right? What’s he doing?” Stiles shakes his head. “Oh, here.” He hands over his keys and cell phone. “I think he must have been in a hurry. He left everything there.”

Derek is dumbfounded.

“Well, see you around!” Stiles turns and makes his way out of the door.

Derek hurries to follow him.

\---

“Where the heck is my car?” Derek hears his boyfriend shout. He’s on the phone with Deaton as he keeps an eye on Stiles who is walking around the parking lot of the loft.

“No, Deaton, I know it’s him. It’s not a shifter or anything. It’s him. He’s… I think I broke him. He walked in on me with… It wasn’t what it looked like, but he just… At first I thought he was just mad at me and was pretending he didn’t know me, but I think he’s serious. I think I broke him.”

Stiles slowly walks over to Derek. “Hey, man. I hate to inconvenience you any more than I already have, but I guess I walked here. Can you call me a cab?”

“A cab.”

“Yeah. A cab. You know those little yellow things that transport people from one side of NYC to the other.” Stiles mimics turning a steering wheel and tipping a hat.

“NYC?” Derek feels sick to his stomach. “Yeah, hold on.”

“Thanks man!” Stiles beams.

“Deaton, what do I do?”

“Derek, I’ve connected the Sheriff to the call.”

“WHAT?!” Derek turns away from Stiles. “No, Deaton, don’t you dare.”

“Derek.”

“Sheriff.” Derek deflates and curls in on himself.

“Derek, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not your fault.”

Derek feels like he could cry. “No, this time it really is.”

Deaton clears his throat. “Derek, we have a plan. We need to be able to keep an eye on him. Here’s what we need you to do.”

\---

“Dude, I’ve inconvenienced you enough. First, with your lady friend. And now you’re driving me around town. I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”

“I’m just taking you to the bed and breakfast, and then I’ll get on with my day.”

Stiles turns from looking out the window and focuses on Derek again. “Yeah, about that. Run this whole thing by me again?”

Derek swallows and repeats the story he’s been told to say. “Someone stole your car at the grocery store because you were too worried about getting the wallet back to me instead of actually taking care of your vehicle. The police want you to stay in town so you can identify it when it turns up. The hotels are all booked up, but I found you a place at the best bed and breakfast in town.”

Stiles just sighs. “Ok. Thanks.” He fiddles with the radio dial. “What am I even doing in Beacon Hills, though? That’s like… a world away from New York.”

Derek parks in front of the Stilinski house. Stiles immediately opens his door and bounds up to the door. The Sheriff is waiting there and smiles when his son waves at him. He has to remember him… the house… This is just craziness.

Stiles bounces up the stairs and beams a dazzling smile. Then, he holds out his hand.

“Matthew.”

The Sheriff dies a little inside, but holds out his hand and returns the gesture.

“Nice to meet you,” Stiles continues.

Derek joins them. “Matthew. Your name is Matthew.”

Stiles turns to look at him. “I guess it is,” he shrugs. He focuses back on the Sheriff. “Thanks for getting me in with such short notice. I hope I’m not putting you out.”

The Sheriff shakes his head. “No. Not at all.” He ushers Stiles and Derek inside. “I only have one other guest, so I had room.”

“Great.” Stiles walks over to the man sitting on the sofa.

Deaton stands. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” He shakes his hand and then turns back around to the Sheriff. “So, uh, which room is mine?”

“I’ll show you.”

\---

After dinner, Stiles and Deaton sit in the living room to watch TV. The Sheriff pretends to do the dishes, but tries to listen to the conversation.

“So, that’s enough about me,” Deaton finishes. “Tell me about yourself, Matthew.”

“Matt’s fine.” Stiles shrugs. He leans back further into the cushions. “Uh… there’s not really much to know about me. I graduated high school and couldn’t wait to get out of my hometown. I went out east for a while, and kinda worked my way back west. But I ended up back in New York, and I love it.”

“What do you do for a living?” Deaton questions.

“A little of this and a little of that. I don’t like to be tied down.”

“Any friends or family out here? Any significant other?”

Stiles laughs. “Are you kidding me?! No way. I’m independent! I don’t want to be tied down to anything or anyone. Take that guy that dropped me off today. Clearly dating this Stiles fella, but has this blonde slut on the side. Didn’t even lock the door. What if the boyfriend had come in? Who needs that kind of devastation in their life? Not me. I take care of myself.”

“What do you think would have happened if Stiles had been the one to find them?” Deaton pries.

Stiles stares at the TV. He runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t know, man.” He bites his lip, before continuing. “I can’t speak for the guy, but if it had been me, I would have freaked. But, like I said. I take care of myself. Who needs that?”

\---

Deaton fills the Sheriff and Derek in on his research over breakfast. “It seems to me like he has dissociated. He’s in a fugue-like state. This Matthew persona is everything that Stiles doesn’t see himself as being. Stiles may act confident, independent, and sure, but we know that deep down he struggles with those ideas. The thought of losing his relationship with you, Derek, was too much for him and he created this new identity that doesn’t need or want a relationship.”

Derek flips his fork back onto his plate and pushes himself back in his chair. “So, what do we do?”

“I’m not sure, yet.”

The Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do we keep humoring him? Or do we need to tell him what’s going on.”

“Noah, I’m just not sure.” Deaton folds his hands. “This is completely out of my area of expertise…”

As Stiles quietly pads into the room, the table cuts off their conversation.

“Don’t stop because of me.” He picks up a plate and loads it with turkey bacon and some scrambled eggs. He sits down next to Derek and picks up four waffles with his fork off of the plate in the center of the table. He nods to Derek. “Can you pass me the syrup, babe?”

All three men look at him. “Babe?” Derek asks.

Stiles looks around at the startled faces. “What? No pet names at the table? Fine. Whatever.” He shoves a whole slice of bacon in his mouth while still motioning his hand for the syrup. Once Derek gives it to him he pours an unholy amount on his plate. Swallowing, “Not to complain, because Dad’s waffles are literally the best ever, but why did we stay here last night?”

“Stiles,” the Sheriff asks, hope clear in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, thank you, God!” Noah stands up from his chair and lifts his son into his arms for a hug.

“Geewhiz, Dad. Happy much?”

“You have no idea how happy.”

Stiles pats his dad’s shoulder. “Why?”

“Because you’re you.”

Stiles laughs. “Never thought I’d hear you say that. Usually, you’re ready to kill me because I’m me.” He pulls out of the stronghold and sits back down to his meal. After taking a bite, he looks around to see all three men still staring at him. “Okay, hold up. What is going on? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Deaton swallows and then begins to speak. “Stiles, do you remember anything about yesterday?”

“Uh, yeah.” Stiles scoffs. “Last day of work before a week’s vacation, baby!”

“What did you do after work?”

“I went home. Derek texted me that he was going to cook dinner, so I didn’t have to worry about picking anything up. So, I just went home.”

Deaton nods. “What did you do when you got home?”

Stiles looks between the three men again. “What’s with the twenty q?” He shoves half a waffle into his mouth. Then, he rolls his eyes. “Did I get drunk? Is that why I can’t remember anything from last night? Is that why you’re all being weird? I did something totally embarrassing, didn’t I?”

“No, Stiles, I did.” Derek begins. “Please, let me apologize.”

“Derek, I wouldn’t…” Deaton murmurs.

“She was crazy. She forced herself on me. I didn’t want any of it.”

“Derek,” says Deaton sternly.

“I know you think I cheated on you, but I swear it wasn’t what it looked like.”

Stiles freezes. “I think you what?!”

“But I didn’t.”

“You cheated on me with a… with a woman!” Stiles’ heart rate increases. “Who was she?!”

“Stiles, listen to me. Let me explain.”

Erratic breathing is never a good thing with Stiles. The Sheriff reaches over and takes Stiles’ hands in his own. “Kiddo, calm down. Look at me. Everything’s okay.”

Stiles takes a deep breath and smiles. “Thanks,” he tells the Sheriff. Then, he turns to Derek. He points his fork at him. “You, sir, are a liar.” He stands and grabs his plate. “Best bed and breakfast in town, my butt. Who serves turkey bacon? And, no offense, but your waffles are overcooked.”

“None taken,” the Sheriff pales.

“What happened?” Derek asks.

Deaton lowers his head. “Now, that was indeed your fault.”

\---

Matthew doesn’t recognize any of the pack. He finds it strange that so many people come in and out of a bed and breakfast without any reservations, but he tries to keep his comments to a minimum. Derek is so stressed and jittery he’s about to climb the walls. He doesn’t mean to wolf out; he really doesn’t.

\---

Jeremy represents Stiles’ fear. He first appears when Matthew sees the monster before him. He screams at the sight of Derek and presses his back into the nearest wall. Everyone tries to get him to calm down, but nothing helps. Except Lydia.

“It’s real. It’s all real! They thought I was crazy, but it’s real. He’s real. No! He’s real!” Stiles sinks into Lydia’s arms and sobs.

Jeremy’s friends thought he was crazy. They put him into an institution. He let the doctors use their therapy to convince him it was all hallucinations, but it’s real.

Jeremy remembers the monsters. He remembers the death and destruction. He remembers the presence inside of him. He counts his fingers.

\---

Deaton calls in the help of many of his friends. Nothing seems to help. If anything, the pack just seems to get used to telling who is who. They’re talking to Stiles. One of the rare occasions he’s in control again. The change between Stiles and Jeremy is very subtle. It’s like seeing how Stiles used to act right after the Nogitsune was defeated.

Stiles is miserable. He knows enough and remembers enough to start believe he’s going crazy. The pack tells him he’s not crazy. They tell him that Deaton is working with a therapist who has a good history of integration. They tell him it’s just stress and it will all be over soon.

Stiles is only Stiles for a little bit of the time. He relishes every second. He watches the new Avenger’s movie with the pack. Matthew has already seen it, but not him.

He looks over his shoulder. He sees a man sitting in a chair.

The pack watches. The pack sees nothing.

He turns his attention back to the TV, but is soon taking a glance over his shoulder again. He taps the pads of his fingers against every digit.

“Jeremy?” Sheriff Stilinski asks.

He looks at him and gives a weak smile. “He’s here.”

“Where?” Derek asks.

Jeremy points to the chair in the corner of the living room. When he looks again, he sees nothing. He immediately jumps up off of the couch. “Where’d he go?”

Lydia reaches out to take his hand. “He’s not real.”

Jeremy shakes his head. “He’s real. And he’s closer. He’s so much closer. Lydia, I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be scared, Jeremy. We aren’t going to let anything happen to you.” Lydia runs her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about Stiles.”

“What do you mean, worried about Stiles?” The Sheriff speaks up again, already picking up his phone to call Deaton. In all the time since this started, neither of the alters have ever talked about knowing Stiles.

Jeremy looks toward him. There is pain in all his features. “I’m supposed to protect him. That’s what we do.”

“Jeremy,” Deaton’s voice comes over the phone. “Jeremy, it’s Deaton. I’m on my way. I really need to talk to you.”

“I…I can’t. I’m… I’m not supposed to say anything. I don’t say anything. This… this isn’t me. It’s someone else.”

“But, I really need to talk to you. It’s to help Stiles. You said you are supposed to protect him. That’s what you can help us do.” Deaton pleads over the phone.

“I’m not supposed to say anything. I’m too scared to say anything. You said I’m his fear, right? I’m too scared to say what I’m not supposed to.” Jeremy stands near the speaker phone and talks to Deaton.

“Jeremy, please try. This could be the key to everything.”

Jeremy stands straight and looks around the room to find Lydia. He grabs onto her hand. She smiles at him, and he takes a deep breath. His eyes seem to start to flutter. He sways on his feet. Derek is by his side in an instant.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

Jeremy’s eyes clear, and he looks at Lydia. “I’m scared.”

“I know, hon. Do you know what’s happening?”

“I’m…” Jeremy tries to explain. “I’m trying to do something I shouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Derek pleads.

“It’s not his turn, but I’m trying.”

“Deaton, where are you,” the Sheriff demands.

“I’m almost there. Just a few miles away.”

A blood curdling scream turns everyone’s attention back to their friend. “He’s right there!!!!!”

“Jeremy, you’re okay. The Nogitsune is gone.”

“But, his shadow is still here. His memory is still here. He’s still here in Stiles’ brain!” Jeremy fights against the pack that has circled around him. “Please help me!!!! Please!!!!!!!” His screams get louder and louder as he struggles against the unseen force. His eyes whip back and forth so quickly it looks like they’re spasming. “He’s right here with me!!!!!!!!!” Lydia tries her best to get him to look at her, but the boy continues to panic. “No!!!! No!!!!!! No!!!!!!!” Jeremy gasps. His voice turns so soft it can barely be heard. “He is me.”

\---

If not for the pack being right there, Jeremy would have fallen to the ground. They ease him down as gently as possible as his body convulses and writhes. Saliva and blood come from his mouth as he bites his tongue and gags.

In that moment, Deaton rushes through the door. He helps them get Stiles onto his side. After quickly assessing the situation, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a vile of medicine. He injects a small dosage into Stiles’ arm. The shaking stops immediately, and Stiles lies motionless on the ground.

“Keep an eye on him,” he says to the group. “Sheriff, can I speak with you?”

They walk into the kitchen. “We need to see if anything is missing. Anything that could be used as a weapon.”

The Sheriff shakes his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we need to be as scared as Jeremy was.” Deaton looks back to the motionless figure. He places the glass vile in the Sheriff’s hand. He turns it to read the name. Saline.

The Sheriff quietly takes each of the pack to the side one by one. He shows each of them the saline. They know it means the person in control of Stiles’ body is faking it. They check their pockets and look around the room. No one is missing anything that could be used as a weapon.

It’s only when they realize they need to check Stiles himself that they understand their mistake. Stiles had a pocketknife. It’s now lodged in Lydia’s chest.

Derek and Scott both launch themselves onto Stiles’ body. He laughs as he struggles against them. With a few perfectly placed blows, he has managed to escape them.

Deaton begins working on Lydia. She weakly says that she’s okay, but he’s hearing none of it.

Derek again tackles Stiles to the floor. Stiles says something in Japanese, and it sends chills down Derek’s spine. “Stiles, I know you’re in there. Please. Wake up!”

Stiles holds up his hand. He focuses on it as if he is trying to conjure something in his palm. His eyes widen when he realizes nothing is forming. When he speaks, it is a feral growl. “What did you do to me?!!!!!!” He fights against Derek. “My power! Where’s my power!!! What did you do????!!!!”

Deaton calls to Derek over his shoulder, “Just hold him down. Thankfully, it’s just like Jeremy said. It’s just the shadow of the Nogitsune. There’s no power.”

“How dare you say such a thing!” the boy shouts. “I still have power!” He fights against Derek with all his strength, but he just isn’t strong enough. “I still have cunning! I’m a thousand years old! I’m smarter than any of you!”

The longer he struggles, the weaker he becomes. Derek can see the fierce look drain out of his boyfriend’s eyes. Slowly, anything that is left of the Nogitsune’s powerful memory is gone. Stiles seems to come to himself as if he is waking from a dream.

“You did it.” He smiles. “He’s okay.”

“Stiles?” Derek begs as he slowly releases the boy.

“Not quite.” His eyelids start to slip closed. “He needs to sleep. I’ll be back.”

\---

When he wakes, everyone is staring at him. He laughs. “Hey, guys.”

Deaton takes the empty seat on the couch beside Stiles as he sits up. “Stiles?”

He bites his lip before shaking his head. “No.” Everyone seems to deflate. “I mean, kind of. But not, not really.”

“What do you mean,” Scott asks. “Who are you now?”

“I’m basically Stiles, but more like the old him. I’m the original.”

The sheriff rubs a hand over his face. “What does that mean?”

“You can call me Fourteen. I used to be One, but then things happened. Then, I was Five. Well… now I’m all the way down to Fourteen.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Order of importance and what not. Oh well.”

He looks out over the sea of faces studying each one. “How’s Lydia?”

Deaton answers. “She’ll be okay. She’s resting upstairs. It wasn’t as deep as it could have been.”

“Good,” Fourteen visibly relaxes. “Jeremy was worried,” he laughs. He rests his elbows on his knees and covers his face in his hands. “She’s okay.”

“Can you communicate with him?” Deaton appears hopeful.

“Yes,” Fourteen raises his head again. “I’m not supposed to, but I can.” He looks at Derek. “The Void is gone. Stiles will be so happy. He will know now that it truly was just a memory.”

Derek nods. It’s hard to feel relief when everything is still so wrong.

Derek rests his hand on Fourteen’s knee to get his attention. “Are you the most powerful personality?”

“No,” is the simple reply.

“I don’t mean powerful as in strength. I mean are you the most in control?” Deaton rephrases.

“Definitely not. I’m down to fourteen, remember?”

“You seem the most enlightened, is what I’m trying to say.”

Fourteen barks out a sharp, bright laugh. “Enlightened. Ha! No, I’m just the original. I’m…” he waves his hands around in a circle. “I’m the essence of Stiles. Does that make sense?”

“If you can speak to the others, you can be the key to Stiles reintegrating,” Derek is hopeful.

“I’m not supposed to.” He shakes his head. “Stiles needs to make his own choices. Everything I say… I feel like I’m overstepping.”

“We need you to help us help him,” the Sheriff pleads. “I need my son back. He’s hardly ever in control anymore.”

Fourteen nods. “The Stiles you’re talking about is just a consciousness now. We… all his pieces… We’re separate.”

“How to we put the pieces back together?” Scott questions.

“I’m not supposed to say.”

“Are you supposed to do anything?!” Derek shouts.

Fourteen points a finger at him. “Don’t make him mad.” There’s a fierceness in his eyes yet a calm power in his voice.

“Tell us about the others,” a voice calls from the doorway.

Fourteen whips his head around to see Lydia. He beams at her. “Lyds.” He stands and walks over to her. “Hold on. I know. I know.” His head lulls and his eyes flutter in a blink and you miss it way. “Lydia, oh my gosh are you okay?!”

“Jeremy?” she asks as she reaches out to accept his hug.

“Oh my gosh, I thought he killed you!” He clings to her.

“Not even close.” Lydia turns Jeremy and walks over to the couch with him. He keeps his head rested on her shoulder for a while. Then, he sits up.

“I want to help Stiles,” Fourteen says. “I really do. But, I’m not supposed to be doing this.”

“Doing what?” Deaton asks.

“Acting like I’m in charge… being in charge.” He groans. “Telling things.”

“But, you can,” the Sheriff asks.

“He’s going to shoot me when he finds out.”

“Who?” Scott asks.

“The one in charge.”

“And that would be?” Deaton is intensely interested in all the conversation.

“Stiles,” Fourteen answers. “He’s just a consciousness now, but he’s still in charge. He’s going to be so mad.”

Lydia reaches out and takes his hand. “Tell us.”

“What do you want to know first?”

The Sheriff begins. “First was Matthew. Then, we met Jeremy. Today, we met the Nogitsune.”

“The Void,” Fourteen corrects. “It’s not the Nogitsune, it was what was left behind.”

“Ok,” Noah says. “The Void. And now we’ve met you. That’s only four, but you say you’re Fourteen. Who are the others?”

“First of all, Matthew is a jerk.” Fourteen says.

“You’re just mad he put you out of first place,” Lydia coos.

“No. I was, what, like fifth before he made his grand appearance.” He shakes his head. “You saw him first because of the split. But, all the personalities were there as a part of Stiles long before the split happened. That’s how personalities work. There are many facets. Those facets are just supposed to stay together is all. They’re not supposed to get names and sprout legs of their own!” He holds his fist in the air. “He’s a jerk, because he’s too independent,” he mocks, “to believe there’s anyone else than him.”

Fourteen folds his legs underneath him to get into a more comfortable position on the sofa. “Jeremy has been around for as long as I can remember. Doubt is probably the closest to Jeremy. Almost identical at times. Uh, there’s Mom.”

“Mom?” the Sheriff asks.

“Yeah,” Fourteen smiles. “She’s the loving, nurturing side of him. The pack mom. The caring son. Puppy piles and no greasy food for Dad.” He laughs. “I love Mom. Then, there’s Torry.”

“That’s T-O-R-R-Y,” another personality breaks through. “Not with an “i” because i’s are for sluts.” He laughs loudly.

“Would you stop it,” Fourteen says to himself. “Sorry.” He shakes his head. “Torry is the sexual side of Stiles. Very confident, like Matthew, but will do things in the bedroom that would make you…” Fourteen sees the Sheriff and immediately blushes a rich shade of pomegranate. “Uh…” It takes a minute for him to regain composure. “Narrator is Stiles’ internal dialogue. He’s most active when the good ol’ brain to mouth filter is broken. And, it’s usually broken because of Henry. Henry is the ADHD side. Livingston is the researcher. There’s a few more based on other emotions that I know are there, but they haven’t given themselves names yet, thank goodness. I call them the potentials.”

“Is that all,” Deaton asks.

“There’s two more.”

“Who are they,” Derek asks.

“I really shouldn’t say.” Fourteen replies. “I’ve already embarrassed him enough. If he knew, that is.”

“Please,” Lydia begs. “We can help Stiles.”

“Ok.” Fourteen resigns to the fact that he’s about to tell everything. “There are two, but they’re really so much the same that it’s hard to separate them.” He holds out his hands. “There’s Red. He’s the Alpha’s mate. He is fierce, and loyal, and strong. He is so powerful, but he only has that power because of Spark. It’s hard to describe Spark.”

“Don’t worry,” Deaton assures him. “We’ve seen Spark.”

“You have?!” Fourteen shouts with excitement. “When? How long ago? I’ve tried to talk to him since the beginning of this whole thing, but I can’t get him to answer. It’s like he’s gone.”

That’s the problem.

The spark is gone.

\---

More like, stolen, that is. When they put everything together, Derek flips out. He goes ballistic. It’s the closest to feral that he’s ever been.

The alpha who followed him home, basically attacked him, and started this whole mess. She stole the spark. The how… Deaton doesn’t know. But the why… definitely for the power.

As they research and try to hunt her down, Livingston makes his first appearance. It’s almost like having Stiles back. They find more clues in thirty minutes than they have in days. Weeks even.

A spark can’t just exist on its own. It has to be contained. In the moment of the split, something had to have happened. Derek wracks his brain. He thinks back to everything that happened the day his whole life shattered. All he can remember is how frozen Stiles looked on the stairs.

“What was he holding,” Livingston asks. “Anything? Did he touch anything?”

“He had his wallet,” Derek answers. “His phone and his keys.”

“No.” Livingston throws his hands in the air. “It would be something more important than that. Stiles, think, buddy.”

“The ring.”

The words startle the room. They’re so weak and fragile.

“Stiles?” Derek rushes to him. He looks about ready to collapse.

Stiles staggers into Derek’s arms. “I don’t feel so good.” He tries to hold himself up using Derek as support. “What day is it?”

“The twentieth.”

“Oh man,” Stiles gulps. “My vacation is over already.”

“Of July,” Derek continues. “We haven’t seen you in over a month.”

“Maybe that’s why I feel so hungry.” Stiles’ legs give out, and Derek lifts him to the couch.

“Stiles,” Deaton is urgent. “You said ‘the ring’. What ring?”

Stiles swallows hard again. “The r-ring. The one I bought for D-Derek. I was gonna propose. I… I walked in and… and I saw…” Stiles starts to cry.

Derek holds Stiles’ face in his hands. “It wasn’t what it looked like, Stiles. I promise.”

“I know,” he nods. “I know.” He sobs into Derek’s chest. “I dropped the ring box when I came in and saw you.” He wails, “I want to be me again!”

“You will be,” Deaton turns and begins to walk out of the door. “You will be.”

\---

By the time the pack has found the rogue alpha and has retrieved the stolen ring, Stiles has retreated again. They had hoped that since Stiles could remember what he saw at the loft that everyone would reintegrate. But nothing can ever be that easy. They’ve gone through basically the full list of alters and some of the ones Fourteen hadn’t known names for yet. It’s late when, worn and haggard, Derek comes back to the Stilinski house.

“Jeremy,” Derek begs, “let me see Red.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Jeremy sits up from where he was lying on the couch. “It’s hard for me to switch, and I’m so tired.”

Scott comes to sit beside him. “I know you’re tired, buddy. But we need you to do this for us. We found the ring.” At Derek’s huff, Scott corrects himself. “Derek found the ring.”

“Is that why you’re covered in blood?” Jeremy asks after hesitating.

“Please, Jeremy,” Derek reaches out to hold his hand. “I need to see my mate.”

The usual slight daze of a switch is turned into an almost full pass out due to the exhaustion. Red smiles at Derek. “Long time, no see.”

“This belongs to you.”

“No,” Red shakes his head. “It belongs to you. If you’ll have me?”

“Yes, always.”

\---

And of course it still isn’t that easy. Energy courses through Stiles’ body as he places the ring on Derek’s finger, but he still isn’t whole. But, it does happen. Stiles is control more and more throughout the day. Sometimes when everyone thinks he has switched, he hasn’t. Like the time he was fixing pancakes for the pack. Isaac looked at him when handed his plate and said “Thanks Mom.” Stiles just laughed brightly and said “Still Stiles.”

When Fourteen appears later that night he is completely freaking out. He bounces around the room sing songing “I’m Thirteen! I’m Thirteen!” The whole pack joins in shouting and jumping around the room.

It’s a nightly routine for a while. Stiles rolls his eyes, says “Still Stiles”, and later on Fourteen changes his name to a lower number. “I’m Ten!” “I’m Eight.” “I’m Five again!”

After that, the progress slows. It’s difficult for Stiles to understand that to continue to make progress, he has to start putting himself first. His true self. Stiles hates it… having to really put his true emotions out in front of the whole world to see. But Derek helps. Derek always helps.

Stiles is devoted to Derek. Devoted might not actually be a strong enough word. But, now when he tries to make Derek happy and he bottles up or lashes out, Stiles doesn’t keep pushing. Instead he goes off to do something that makes himself happy. Derek usually follows along not too far behind.

“I’m Three,” he speaks in awe one night.

“I’m Two.”

“I’m One.”

Fourteen is scared. And that’s a weird feeling. Ever since the split, Jeremy took all of the fear for himself. Jeremy’s suddenly gone now. And there’s just Stiles and Fourteen. He insists on being called One now, but old habits die hard.

The switch between the two personalities is the easiest for the pack because the two have basically always been the same person. But for Fourteen, the switch seems the scariest.

Fourteen has always been the most powerful- in an enlightened sense that is. And being enlightened means he realizes that the last integration really will be the last. He’ll be gone after this. It takes a while. And finally some counseling, to help him see that he won’t really be gone. Because being number One, and giving that power over to consciousness, will allow Stiles to be the best version of himself he could ever be.

Three nights go by without a switch. The pack looks at Stiles expectantly.

“I’m me.”


End file.
